The Vintner's Thanksgiving
by JT Gabert
Summary: Robert Ironside and his wife are ready to host the annual Vintner's Thanksgiving party celebrating the end of the harvest. When a body turns up on the Ironside vineyard, it's up to Robert and Katherine, along with help from his former assistants, to solve the crime before the murderer strikes again.
1. Chapter 1 Run for Your Life

**Chapter 1 Run for Your Life**

Rob Lorenz was running. He'd never run faster than today, not even when he ran track at UC Davis. This race was for his life. As he zigged zagged through the vineyard, he heard the sound of the John Deere Gator slowly following him. It was just slow enough behind him to keep him running. Slow enough to make him feel he had a chance. The cloud of dust that suddenly rose from his feet and the sound of a ricochet indicated his chances might not be as strong after all. The sound repeated itself and then the bullets were coming fast enough that he was getting hit by dirt clumps kicked up by the bullets ricochet. Semi blinded, he put his head down and kept running. He pushed through the vines to get to the next row. If he'd done this right, he was just a few rows from his car. He heard the Gator come closer; Lorenz plunged through the next row. There, fifty feet away was his car and freedom. He could get to the cops in Sonoma and this madness would be stopped. Then he stopped. The Gator was in front of him. In the early evening light, he could see the glint of a rifle barrel.

"Robbie, Robbie, Robbie", the voice sang. "You never should have told me you knew how we got the new grapes. You never should have known about how cooked the books were. You should never have said to your drunken friends you were going to the cops."

"Look, I got money. You know I got money. I pay you and I get outta your life forever. Never talk to anyone about this."

The gun barrel swayed. Maybe he had a chance to buy his life.

"Eight large and I walk away." He gambled.

"Where's the money?"

Immediately he knew he'd made a bad gamble.

The gun barrel swayed again. "Where's the flash drive?"

"Hidden man where it's safe. Away from you and anybody else that wants it. Only I can put my hands on it. That's my key to freedom. You keep the money and I'll send you the drive when I know I'm safe. I live, and you have all the evidence about this place. It won't go to the cops.

The barrel swayed. "No, I can't chance it." The voice continued. "You're a liability to me and the winery. One night you'll get drunk and bored and you'll tell the story about we got our good grapes. The barrel flashed twice. Rob Lorenz felt surprised when the bullets hit his chest, then his knees collapsed. He never knew he hit the ground.

"There, I think the tables are ready at last." Kate Ironside sighed. She looked at the large oak planked table, weighed down with her husband's orchids, stacks of assorted plates, wine glasses of all shapes, flatware, napkins, and serving dishes. The other half of the table was crowded with crudités, cheeses, pâtes, and other hors d'œuvres.

"Kate, if this table could make a sound, it would be a groan. I don't believe for a moment you have room for anything else out of fear that the table will collapse. And I deduce from the smells coming from the kitchen, Greta has even more food coming."

Ironside rolled to the patio doors, opened them and stared out on the patio with tables loaded with bottles of red wines, ice-filled troughs holding whites and sparkling wines, and other tables held desserts.

"Do we have any room for people to sit down and eat, or is this one of those chi-chi stand up and try to be comfortable parties when they're really not?"

"Robert, there are plenty of tables and chairs for people to sit down, eat, and talk at."

"The neighbors will all be here tonight."

"Oh yes, my love, it appears that no one sent regrets this year."

"Yes, Greta's cooking brings them all out for this. What about tomorrow?"

"It's all set. Ed and Eve both called. They're coming in late tonight. They'll all stay with Marion and Howard and they'll be here late morning."

"Are the kids coming? Sarah?

"Ed said that his mother and Patrice will have the twins stay with them at the ranch. Catalina can't wait to get here. Ed told me that she's been writing a story for her 'Abuelo Roberto.'"

The Chief smiled. "Her 'Abuelo' is anxiously waiting for her too. How's Fran doing?"

"Fran needs a little downtime. Ed thinks she went back to work far too soon after Maggie and Robbie were born. She's having to adjust to a lot, now that Catalina is with them and the twins. I remember how I felt after Jonathan and Madelaine were born, and she's doing it times three and two of them babies at the same time."

"Just like her father. Too stubborn to listen to good medical advice. Too stubborn to admit she needs to slow down."

"You should know a lot about that."

Her husband ignored her comment. "She has Sarah in the house, and that's a blessing. That just leaves Mark and Diana."

"They're having brunch with his mother and the girls tomorrow morning, but will join us in time for dinner. Sandy and Cyndi will be off doing their various things with friends. Have I accounted for everybody Robert?"

"I assume that Suzanne and Jerry Abbey feel personally responsible for the public safety of Denver County this weekend."

"You assume correctly."

Ironside rolled out onto the patio facing the vineyard. Katherine walked behind him. His right hand comes up alongside and she takes it. He presses it against his cheek.

"You miss them, your children."

"At the risk of sounding maudlin, yes, I do miss them. We haven't been together for quite a while. But they're not my children, never have been. We're just very close friends."

"If you say, Robert. If you say". She broke out in a silvery peal of laughter.

"I say so, Kate." His voice was emphatic, but Kate knew how he truly felt for his former associates and their families.

"How long before the musicians show up?" He asked.

"An hour, but Jamie will take care of that and all the other last-minute details."

"Well, let's make the most of our quiet time. Shall we walk in the vineyard?"

"We'd be fools not to."

Grabbing the wheelchair's handles, Kate pushed Robert along the gravel paths of the vineyard. As they 'strolled', Robert Ironside suddenly shifted his weight forward.

"Listen, do you hear that Kate?" He said throwing up his right hand to have her stop pushing the chair.

"Fireworks?"

"No, they're gunshots and very close by. Someone's shooting on our property."

"Maybe Pasquale has caught up with those rabbits at last."

"No, he uses a shotgun. These are different. Automatic rifle; coming from the east side."

"Shouldn't we call the sheriff Robert? After all, there are gunshots on our property."

"Tom Martinez will not want to be bothered with a call about gunshots unless there's good reason to call him"

"And you want to see if there is a good reason to call."

"I do." From a side coat pocket, he took out his Detective's Special and laid it on his lap. He looked up at his wife. "Just in case those were very large rabbits."

The two kept moving along the path. When they saw the body sprawled in the middle of the gravel. Kate left her husband's side unasked to see if there were any signs of life. She checked for a pulse, shaking her head no.

Her husband pulled out his cell phone and punched three numbers on his keyboard. "This is Robert Ironside. I need to report a murder at my property."


	2. Chapter 2 We Gather Together

**The Vintner's Thanksgiving Chapter 2 We Gather Together**

"My dear, what do we tell the guests?"

"It's simple Kate. We tell them nothing."

"Robert, that's wrong."

"No, it isn't. There is nothing to tell, yet."

"They're going to notice the sirens and flashers."

"Yes, you're right about that." Ironside took out his phone again and dialed. "Tom. Bob Ironside here. You've been told. Fine. I need a favor. It's the Vintner's Thanks…what? Yes, you can use the east entrance. I'm going to have enough of a three-ring circus here tonight without you all around. Can you control the media presence just for tonight? Plainclothes presence at our entrance. Well, yes, it is invitation only. Excellent. I owe you Tom. Good night". He looked up at his wife. "Tom Martinez was well ahead of me. He knows what's happening tonight and he'll make sure they make as little noise as possible. The last thing he wants to do is scare Sonoma County's major source of income and tourism. He'll have plainclothes at the gate to check the invitations and discourage the press from being party crashers. I promised I'd talk to them tomorrow. His crew will come in the east gate, silently, no lights, no ambulances, and unmarked vehicles only."

"Robert, you think the killer is still here, don't you?"

"I don't know Kate. He could be. It's better to put up as much protection as we can."

"You have that look about you."

"What look?" Her husband smiled.

"I know where you'd rather be tonight, and tomorrow."

"You're right about that Kate. Right now, I'd like to know who our victim is and maybe why someone killed him on our land." He took a ballpoint pen out of his pocket. "I need you to roll our friend over, my love. Careful where you step."

Kate grimaced. "And if I don't want to?" She didn't wait for an answer, instead, she knelt down and rolled the body over, wincing as she saw the close-range wounds. "Do you recognize him, my dear?"

"No, I don't. Take the pen and see if there's anything in his pockets that could identify him."

Kate took the proffered pen and gently pulled the flap pockets open. Without being prompted, she checked the inside coat pockets as well.

"Do you feel anything like a wallet? A card case? Papers?"

"No Robert, there's nothing here."

"Check his pants."

Kate did so, rolling the body back over into its original position so she could check the rear pockets. "There's nothing there either Robert."

"Someone doesn't want us to know who our man is." Ironside turned his face toward the gate and the approaching car. "Tom is going to have his work cut out for him on this one."

By the time the Ironside's returned to their house, there were already people milling about the tables, glasses of wine in their hands, some holding small plates of Greta Saunders hors d'œuvres, all talking about a variety of things. Robert and Kate were approached by Jamie Roberts, their winery manager.

"Where have you two been?" He hissed.

"Jamie, bring us a glass of wine, would you, and one for yourself too. We'll meet you at the far end of the patio." The Chief pushed himself energetically towards the spot, Kate following him.

When Jamie joined them, he brought three glasses and a bottle of Russian Valley Meritage. "Thought we could try something new, and Chief, Mark told me about this trick years ago. With him, you used coffee, with me, it's 'come let's have a glass of wine, talk'. Eventually, you'll have a job for me to do. What is going on?"

Ironside explained the situation, giving Jamie enough information so he could help deflect nosy partygoers, in case anyone became too curious.

"Chief, murder on your property and a killer on the loose."

"Don't say anything to anyone about this. I'm letting the sheriff control the investigation."

"For now."

"There's no 'for now', Jamie. It's his job."

"Until tomorrow."

The Chief scowled.

"Tomorrow, your dinner guests happen to be the Denver Police Chief, the Associate Chief Justice of the California Superior Court, a former Captain of the San Francisco Police, and a former patrolwoman, all arriving just in time to play Clue with their ex-boss in exchange for what? Greta's world famous turkey, seafood stuffing, and Pappy Van Winkle bourbon pecan pie?"

"You forgot, the Executive Assistant to the Denver Police Chief will be here tomorrow as well." Kate added.

"And I'm not putting them to work."

"Colonel Mustard in the vineyard with the .38. Who could resist that as an amuse bouche?"

Ironside shook his head. "Jamie, you've got an overactive imagination."

"Nope. I know you too well. You love solving cases, especially when they're someone else's." He paused and gestured. "Uh oh, it's time to mingle, you two, the place is filling up, and here comes Jimmy Brindensteel, vintner to the stars. You're on your own boss." Laughing, Jamie left them to greet people.

"Robert, Katherine. I'm so glad to see you." Jimmy shook hands with the Chief and air kissed Katherine on both sides of her face. He was a glossy, breezy young man in his early thirties. Everything about him screamed success. "Fabulous party. Fabulous. I'm going to have to work to top it next year. Hot air balloon rides, perhaps, and maybe I can steal Greta away? Her ceviche is to die for."

"You'll have to ask Greta. Though I think that after this, she won't want to do anything on such a grand scale for a long time. Where is your wife tonight? I was so looking forward to seeing her."

"She sends her regrets Katherine. She's with clients in LA tonight." Jimmy's tone though light, indicated that his wife's no-show was a source of frustration to him. He turned to Ironside."Chief, if I can call you that"

"Most people still do, Mr. Brindensteel."

"Oh, please, call me Jimmy. Whilst out walking tonight, I saw a lot of lights and cars in the east field, where your Cabernet Franc is growing. What's happening?"

"Tom Martinez called. He wanted to provide a bit of protection for everyone here and wanted a command post away from the crowd. I agreed."

"How sad, I was hoping for true crime, and it's all about keeping the paparazzi at bay."

"I'm afraid so Jimmy." Ironside took a long swallow of his wine. It was good. Maybe he should buy a case of it for his cellar. "There are many guests here tonight that would prefer not to have camera flash in their eyes and just enjoy themselves."

"Speaking of that, I'm sure you're one who would like to enjoy themselves as well."

"Yes, I would."

Jimmy Brindensteel walked away with a pout on his face. Damn Katherine for bringing up Randee. He was sure she was 'entertaining' a favorite client in Los Angeles. According to the private investigator, he was Stan Roscommon, a hedge fund manager from San Diego. He met Randee at the Beverly Hills Hotel. They had a meeting, Randee made the sale, then they celebrated with a bottle of Tough Nickel Syrah. That had been followed by dinner in the Polo Lounge and multiple drinks by the pool. When Randee spilled her drink on her dress, Stan invited her back to his bungalow to clean up. She didn't reappear until the next morning. His wife was a major reason for Tough Nickel's success as well as for it bleeding financial red each month. Her ability to make the sale added to the black of their financial ledgers. Her addiction to the finer things made her a favored customer along Rodeo Drive. That addiction to couture fashion along with her need to live at the same level as her rich clientele and problems at the vineyard gave truth to the winery's name.

"Jimmy" there was a touch on his sleeve. "I didn't think you were coming tonight."

He looked into the face of his vintner, Harley Algren.

"Hey, Harley I-I didn't recognize you."

"And you can say it. I clean up well."

"You do."

"Glass of wine?"

"Certainly. I think they're required tonight."

"Red or white?"

"Surprise me."

Jimmy walked over to the red wine table and poured two glasses. He tried to look as casual as possible. "Paparazzi my ass" he muttered. "What a lame excuse he'd been given. He'd heard stories about Ironside and his former life as a cop. Former life, he reminded himself. Ironside had no authority here. He shouldn't have dumped the body at Chateau Ironside. That was stupid, but the body would give a false narrative. His next move would be far more cautious. He wasn't going to get caught. Tough Nickel would survive, as would he. He drank the wine quickly, pouring himself another glass. He would outfox this old man.


End file.
